The South Tower was the most ancient military structure in the world. Roughly fourteen hundred years ago, the first human beings capable of intellectual sovereignty arrived in Goldcrest Valley. A race of vengeful giants known as the Volcryn were hot on their heels, and in this very valley the humans were forced to fight. For the first time, the human race held their own against the species engineered to destroy them. The siege of Goldcrest lasted decades, and eventually the Volcryn grew tired. On the day immortalized by the holiday called ‘Remission Day’, the Volcryn withdrew their forces, and the human race experienced freedom for the first time. It was discovered over a decade later that the Volcryn had dug a tunnel into the valley’s south end. The mystery of why the Volcryn chose not to use this tunnel would be a matter of controversial speculation for centuries to come. The tunnel was dubbed ‘Opalesce Tunnel’, and on the day after it’s discovery it was sealed. A great tower was erected at its maw, and The men of this tower have watched it everyday since. There are many who believe that Opalesce Tunnel is connected directly to the underworld in which the Volcryn still dwell.

Human men no longer dwelled in Goldcrest Valley’s South Tower. The tower was now home to a colony of human variants called Xotica. They numbered fifteen hundred, and their leader was a mythological figure called Aerin Elrohir. He was nearly one hundred years old, and legend told that it had been his birthright to rule over an entire plane of existence. If the legend was to be believed, then he gave up his conquests for the humble life of a family man. The family life had been stripped from him by the coming of Caesar Brutus, and now he was stuck in the realm of man.

Orion did not believe in legend, but he did believe in Aerin. He had fought side by side with the leader of the Xotica on multiple occasions, and the two men trusted each other implicitly. Orion knew Aerin to be a gullible man, and he was afraid of what his sister’s courtesans might do to Aerin if he agreed to join whatever political corruption they were surely cooking up. Both Aerin and Orion were military men at heart, and they had a history of looking out for each other.

“Elrohir!” Orion called to the South Tower as though the stones themselves might respond. The arcane prowess of the Xotical was legendary, and he knew his voice would find its way to Aerin’s ears.

“Donner!” Aerin called back from within. “Welcome! Do come in!” Aerin’s voice carried crisply through the tower’s meter thick walls. “Peston! Denton, and Cassidy you are welcome as well.”

Normally, Orion would tie his steed to a tree or anchor the beast to a spike in the earth, but in the presence of the Xotica, animals simply did as they were told. The donner men left their four stallions to roam the south fields, and strode to the tower’s historic steel door. As Orion reached for the door’s handle, he and his men were transported magically within. The hand with which he had reached for the door found itself shaking Aerin’s hand. He pulled Aerin into a hug.

“What news?” Aerin wanted to know. Orion took a seat on a weathered stool and gazed out of what he assumed was the South Tower’s highest observation room.

“Where to start….”

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“I will start.” Aerin interjected. He took a seat on a windowsill and peered down ten stories at Orion’s stallion. “Exandra gave birth to a little girl. I am uncle Aerin now.”

“Congratulations!” Preston burst smiling to his feet.

“Grandmother Madara communed with Raicchus.” Aerin continued optimistically. “She tells another vague prophecy now. We of the Rhea Nation will return home from the valley of man, she says. She claims that she herself will save us all from a great evil.”

Orion could not tell if Aerin spoke in seriousness. All of the people of his Rhea Nation loved their spiritual godmother Madara, but Aerin was not the kind of man to put his trust in prophecy.

“Has Madara given prophecy before?” he asked as respectfully as he could.

“Oh yes. All the time… and no they do not always have meaning. Not that I can see, at least.”

“What of your ledgers?” Orion prodded. “Is the Rhea Nation fed?”

“For the moment, yes. We have had the fortune to meet with the charitable Cardinal Winslow. He and his agricultural union are very caring. We have bread, vegetables and spices enough for the week. Mayor Sackary was less hospitable.”

“House Donner advises you to steer clear of Sackary. He is now the puppet of a man called Gaius pan Tracchus. Have you had the misfortune of meeting Gaius yet?”

“No….” Aerin did not seem as worried as he should be. “Is he a threat?”

“He is.”

Orion was torn between his honorable and political minds. It was in the best interest of his family and the people they represented to ask Aerin to handle Gaius. Tara would argue that it was in everyone’s best interest for Gaius to meet a quiet end before his anarchist ideals and reaving followers could fall upon Metropolis. Plus, there were only a small handful of men in The Valley who could stand up to Gaius in combat, and Aerin was one of them. To ask his help was the logical thing to do. It was also the wrong thing to do. Aerin had given more to the human cause than any king could have asked for. Gaius was not his problem, and to ask for more Xotical to wager their lives would be disrespectful. Orion changed the subject.

“The feast tonight… have you been told of it?”

“I have. Have to come to request my presence?”

“That is why my sister sent me… but no.”

Aerin looked regretful of the answer he felt he must give.

“Good. Because I think it would be imprudent to depart from my people at this time. I mean no disrespect. I am sorry.”

Orion had not expected Aerin to decline so definitively. There were many arguments he could have made. In the last few years, he had grown quite proficient at speaking in his sister’s voice. He could have changed Aerin’s mind, but he chose not to. As he rode the seven mile road back to Metropolis, Orion began to feel as though he had made a grave mistake. Aerin’s Rhea Nation were well positioned. They had food and drink and a defensible home. The Xotica acted as though they had earned every luxury in the world. They had, of course, but soon their saintly deeds would be forgotten. When Goldcrest Valley fell into a hysteria of starvation, mobs of hungry humans would waste no time in burning his camp to the ground.